


Three Syllables

by Holyangelheart



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Prekerb-Sheith, Short One Shot, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 09:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13610664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holyangelheart/pseuds/Holyangelheart
Summary: This is foralisayaminon Tumblr and Twitter!Keith races often and usually wins them, but since a cash prize is always awarded to the winner, it's illegal. One day during a race, Keith barely passes a silver rider. Just from his build and voice alone, Keith finds him interesting.





	Three Syllables

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy reading! I tried to focus more on the racing, but I've never written anything about it before. It flowed a lot smoother than I expected lol.

It was the dead of night. The air was crisp, but there were no clouds above the desert. The stars shone brightly in the sky, some larger than others. On the ground, night crawlers left their hiding places and moved about freely in the dark. The night was their territory and the ground belonged to them.

Silence, but the creatures all scattered. Seconds later, two hoverbikes raced through the desert, barely passing above the tall grass and maneuvering around large cacti. Rocks shook as the two vehicles left the area and the creatures finally escaped their cover once again.

The two bikes raced against each other, their engines echoing in the silence of the night. Their headlights were all that illuminated their path, often getting close to hitting a cactus and falling over. One motorbike was read while the other was silver and reflected the bright moon that rose above their heads.

Towards the end of their unpaved track, a finish line was held. Two groups of people were on either side of bright orange traffic cones that divided them. The two racers pushed down on the accelerator, whizzing through the finish line with the red motorbike in the lead. In his triumph, the driver lifted his fist up in the air, doing another lap around the track before finally coming to a stop at the finish line again.

He took his helmet off, revealing short hair. The front stopped right under his ears while the back was shaved into an undercut. Two strands of hair popped up on the back of his head like bunny ears. His lips formed into a small smile as he accepted the envelope of the winnings he earned from the host of the event.

The other driver didn't take his helmet off even after he stepped away from his bike. He stood a few feet taller than the red driver with a wider build. His muscles were slightly defined under his sleek leather jacket and black jeans. He held an envelope in one hand and held his other out for the winner to take. "Congrats, Kogane."

"Thanks," Keith replied. He didn't ask how the guy knew his name, but he figured it didn't matter. He received the envelope gratefully and placed both envelopes inside his jacket—where an inner pocket was.

With a grunt, his competition moved to talk to the host and Keith took that as his cue to leave.

Right as Keith stepped onto his hoverbike, headlights could be seen in the horizon. A sense of dread filled him, and he pushed on the gas to get out of there, not noticing how no one else followed.

That day marked the first-time people were caught for illegal racing. Before that, Keith could evade the law as many times as needed.

The news about the round up spread, Keith being the only one who saw what happened. No one had been caught before as the desert was completely empty most of the time. Venomous animals and rough terrain unfit for human life was perfect; the best place to race with hoverbikes.

Feeling the breeze carry the bike through the air, the engine under his fingertips. The animals about but he didn’t have to worry about hurting any of them. He knew the area like the back of his hand. The desert was his favorite place: it was his home.

Every night during a race, his baby roared lovingly with the care he put into it. No other hoverbikes could compare. Except for that last racer…the silver racer. He hadn’t seen such a beautiful bike in person for years. It had to be someone new or else he’d recognize their deep rich voice. He hummed as he remembered the way the man said his name. How he imagined his lips formed the three syllables—he wished he knew his name too.

After that, the time between each race grew. More and more people were being caught by the authorities. The stakes of participating climbed and so did the reward money: he wasn’t about to back down from the challenge.

During the day, he did any work he could. He washed vehicles, cleaned dishes, waited tables. Always looking over his shoulder whenever he felt eyes watching him. He hid his dagger under his clothes, waiting. Sometimes he dropped things and other times he tripped on his own feet. He walked with his knees shaking and slouched shoulders and the gaze would suddenly disappear.

He needed to be careful or else someone would catch on. If someone knew he drove a hoverbike and raced, they could arrest him and take it away.

A month after his last race, Keith decided to join another one. It was held far away from the desert. Close to a lake with a road circling it. A large mountain range could be seen in the distance, full of evergreen trees and tumbling rocks. A one lane road for each direction ran from one end of the mountain to the other, it was a road notorious for its dangers. People often sped down it at 100 MPH when the legal speed limit was 40. The road curved often, sometimes so close the edge people could see a hundred feet drop. At night, there were no lights except for the headlights of the vehicles.

The freeway was closed due to the rare storm that wet the entire area, loosening the soil as it mixed with the rain. Officials were worried of a possible mudslide; the chances of death high. The number of racers that waited at the blinking traffic light could be counted on one hand. Everyone there knew what they were doing despite the risk; the winner would gain five grand.

Ahead of them was a winding road that curved around houses. The lake was a dark pit in the night. High above the moon hid behind heavy clouds full of rain, threatening to worsen the situation. Any of their bikes could malfunction and send them to an early grave.

With how narrow the route was, unless they used unfair methods it was impossible to get ahead. Hidden tricks, fast maneuvering, and poor sportsmanship were the name of the game.

Warming up their engines, the riders cradled their bikes. Each bike consisted of a different color: red, silver, purple, and white. The host stood before them with a pistol often used for races and held it into the air.

Engines purred just as he pulled the trigger. All four hoverbikes accelerated up the hill at once. Keith was in the lead, gaining speed ahead of the rest. White, purple, and silver were close behind.

He didn't look back as he pushed down on the accelerator and the trees whizzed past. In a blink of the eye, the white hoverbike was on his left side. He pressed it harder and leaned to the left to drive in the middle of the road.

Up ahead a part of the mountain was carved out, soil exposed on each side of the road. Silver accelerated and used the mountain’s curve to pass both.

Now he was in last place. The sound of laughter was faint, but he knew someone was laughing at his demise. Keith growled under his breath and pushed forward so close to the purple racer that he bumped into them, hard.

He then moved to the middle and blocked his path. He moved to the left and then swerved to the right, still being blocked.

Keith huffed and flipped a switch causing the hoverbike to roar loudly. He turned the handles, revving the engine and pushed down on the gas. The hoverbike lifted farther off the ground until it was higher than the other bike and it soared through the air long enough for him to land a few feet ahead.

He heard swearing behind him and a smile graced his lips. He didn't have time to laugh as the silver rider was gaining speed and the distance between him and the white rider seemed impossible. He could feel the distance between him and the guy in last place grow as well, he was probably thinking the same thing.

To him, nothing was impossible.

Keith leaned forward, feeling as though maybe the extra weight could help him move faster. The trees were all a blur, but different now than before. A mist started seeping into the area; the visibility lowered to two miles. By now, the purple racer must have given up. The area in front of him became slightly darker, as if the headlights behind him had vanished without a trace. For a second, he mourned the loss of a competitor, hoping he gave up willingly.

Ahead of him, red taillights glowed in the distance. The mist grew eerie as if there was a fire spreading or a monster awaited him. Soon the white hoverbike and rider appeared, and he could see that there was at least five miles between them and the silver rider. It was quite impressive.

Keith slammed down on his accelerator and rushed ahead. The white rider tailed him closely, their headlights illuminating both sides of the road. In the corner of his eye, he could see large rocks close to the edge on the left side of the road.

Just as he saw them, the soil gave in and mud started to slide down, bringing small rocks, bushes, and different plants with it. The rain turned into a downpour.

As the road became slick, it allowed multiple rocks and boulders to slide down too. Keith flipped his switch and was able to hover above them high enough to land back onto the road, almost skidding to a stop. The white rider cursed loudly—he had stomped on the breaks instead but sounded fine.

Keith grinned as he maneuvered passed multiple mudslides, none of them as large as the first. Without his hoverbike, he would be stuck too. Up ahead, the mist finally cleared, and he could see the back of the purple racer. It was time for payback.

Within minutes, he was finally back in the competition and charging for the five grand. The rain pounded against them, so loud that it had muted his engine and he was able to slip into first.

Only for a moment, but then the other was there again.

The mountain seemed to go on forever as the road followed the natural incline and decline of its peak. Around them, houses started to appear, and the road was going down. They were entering the end of the race. This was the most difficult part as their hovercrafts stuck closer to the ground or else they could fly off into a civilian's home.

The road opened, instead of one lane for each side, it grew to two. Now, there was no advantage and Keith could easily overtake him. He felt light despite the weight of the rain pouring down. A smile crossed his face as both him and silver were neck and neck. He never met such a fierce competitor before and the mysterious fellow intrigued him. Maybe after the race he could talk to him and meet up sometime.

For now, he needed to focus on his win.

It was all or nothing.

Once again, Keith slammed down on his accelerator, but his headlights blinked off and on until everything became dark. He could only see through the upcoming streetlights that he was losing ground. They were three miles away now from the goal. He didn’t give up.

In seconds he was able to catch up again, the decline becoming steeper the farther they moved towards the finish line. The only sign for the goal was a ribbon under traffic lights for both directions. Once they passed through, the ribbon would tear, and one would be crowned the winner.

Suddenly, a car appeared out of nowhere. It headed straight for them, probably unaware that the road was blocked, or maybe they didn’t care. Everything happened so fast. One moment he was heading for the finish line, and in another two white lights blinded his vision. He didn’t falter, but the driver did.

They swerved trying to avoid them while his hovercraft leaped into the air, avoiding it completely. The silver rider did the same.

The sound of tires skidding to a halt, but not in time as the car crashed into a guardrail head first. Smoke drifted up from the front of the car, but the driver didn’t get out.

It was then with the houses and parked vehicles, streets illuminated by lamp posts and crosswalks, did Keith finally realize he was outside of his home—outside his comfort zone. He was far away from the peaceful bliss he enjoyed. The silence that allowed him to go deeper into his self, learn more about the world and what it had to offer. All the houses passed by like a blur, but he had no attachment to them. He didn’t think about who lived in those homes and who walked down that road. It didn’t matter.

Swerving, Keith turned around. Without looking back at what he could lose, about how far he had come, he wasn’t going to leave someone in pain. He could easily earn that five grand some other way, but if he left now he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Quickly, he rushed to the driver’s safety. He parked next to the wrecked car and opened the driver’s door. The air bag puffed out, jamming them into place. The smell of oil permeated his nostrils and Keith grunted. He needed to hurry.

The sound of engines passed by, two of them. The other drivers hadn’t given up like he thought, but the rain was still around. He could hear the faint sound of cheering, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Keith carried the driver out. They had short hair and a muscular build, but he could carry them just fine. He moved them so that their body hung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and he carefully placed them on the sidewalk a good distance away from the car. He squatted next to them, checking their vital signs and any injuries. There were none.

“You gave up your win, Kogane,” a voice said out of nowhere. The silver rider stood before him, their helmet still hiding their face. “You’re really strong. That man looks to be twice your weight.”

“Yeah, and?” He asked.

The rider took their helmet off, revealing thick black messy hair and an undercut. “You’re nicer than you look. I’m Shiro.”

“Shiro,” he said. The rider was young, probably only a few years older than him and had a nice build. His smile felt genuine, although it made his blood boil. “How does it feel to win?”

“I didn’t,” he said. He gestured down the road where the white driver was accepting his winnings. Shiro shrugged. “Winning wasn’t my goal.”

“Really?” Keith asked with a raised brow. He stood up. “What would that be?”

“You.”

The word was simple, one syllable, yet it had strength over him. “Me?”

“Yes,” he said. Shiro took out his wallet from his jacket and revealed a card. He handed it to Keith with a smile.

Keith took the card and his face fell. “You’re…from the Garrison?”

Shiro nodded. “We’d like to recruit you, Keith. You have the potential to become an amazing cadet.”

“You didn’t see me do anything,” Keith said. “I lost, and I committed a crime.”

“Yes, but you show amazing skills. In the end, you did what you thought was right and that’s the kind of cadet I want at the Garrison.”

Up ahead, red and blue blinking lights showed in the distance. Panic rushed through his blood, but Shiro remained calm. He still smiled at him with a twinkle in his eye. White was already being read his Miranda rights and Shiro didn’t move an inch. Was everything a setup?

Keith stuffed the card into his jean’s pocket and ran for the hoverbike. He gave one last look at Shiro as he hopped on. The man stood there in his black leather jacket and jeans, the smile still there.

“Just think about it okay? I’ll take care of this man, don’t worry.”

Keith drove back up the mountain since it was the fastest way back to his home. He noticed a mile up that there weren’t any authorities on his trail. All he could think about was the man’s calming smile and the way his smooth voice said the three syllables of his name.

Maybe joining the Garrison wasn’t a bad idea after all.

 


End file.
